


Towel + Liquid Nitrogen + Flower pot

by starrylizard



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bombs, Gen, Kidnapped, Rescue, Team Feels, Tumblr Prompt, h/c, improvising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: Bozer has been kidnapped. Jack and Mac are there to save him. Mac's POV.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	Towel + Liquid Nitrogen + Flower pot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nativestar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nativestar/gifts).



> I finally caved and wrote a Macgyver fic. It's a one shot sort of scene for the moment.  
> This is based on a Tumblr prompt from Nativestar, "towel, liquid nitrogen and a flower pot," which led to some fun google results. Also thanks to DragonflySoul for your advice on an earlier draft.  
> Leave any comments you like including constructive ones. Hope you enjoy.

Title: **Towel + Liquid Nitrogen + Flower pot**

Fandom: Macgyver (2016)

Author: Starrylizard

Tags: Kidnapping, rescue, H/C, friendship, team

**\---Macgyver---**

“We’re in.” Jack spoke for the benefit of the off-site team listening in on the radio. He cased the room as he spoke, leading with his gun.

Mac climbed slowly through the window behind him, dropping the makeshift climbing gear quietly to the floor as he waited for Jack to give the all-clear. He too cased the room, not for bad guys - he knew Jack had that covered - but rather for possible useful items. Bottles of cleaner, furniture, stationery, a canister of Liquid Nitrogen, towels and linens. . . They’d entered through a storage area and his mind was already working to catalogue any items in the room that could be of use if required.

The medical facility was small and rustic, but looked clean. At this time of night, the place was mostly dark and empty. A light flickered in the corridor outside the room they’d just entered, creating more shadows than helpful light.

“Any idea which room we’re looking for?” Jack asked.

Riley’s voice answered through their earpieces. “ _Sorry Jack, GPS puts him in the building, but I can’t be more accurate than that. We were lucky to be able to track his phone at all. Seems pretty sloppy for them to have left it on._ ”

“ _Be careful…_ ” Matty’s voice.

“Yeah we know, sounds like a trap,” Mac added, before Matty could finish her sentence. “But it’s Bozer.” The radio fell silent at that. They were all on the same page this time. No argument required.

“ _Just be careful_ ,” Matty repeated.

Jack gestured for Mac to follow him, and they pushed out into the corridor slowly, but with a sense of urgency. A sound from somewhere up ahead made them both pause to listen. “mmmfph.” The sound was muffled, but clearly a person in distress.

Mac was instinctively moving toward the sound before Jack could stop him. He felt Jack pull him up by his jacket. “Slow it down,” Jack growled.

Jack didn’t let go until Mac turned and gave him full eye contact. He waited for Jack to nod, let go and step up next to him. They peered carefully around the frame of the open door as one, ready to pull back if there was any hint of a booby trap. Nothing happened.

In the centre of what looked to be a disused medical exam room, Bozer was strapped to a metal chair. A black hood covered his face and a device with trailing wires was attached beneath the chair. The wires were plaited into the ropes that wound about Bozer and the chair.

“Hey man, we’re here now. Try not to move too much, buddy.” Jack spoke calmly, his hands held out as if toward a wounded animal even though Bozer wouldn’t be able to see them. “Mac’s gonna take a look, just hold tight.” He gave a meaningful look to Mac and pointed with his head to the large brown blob with its trailing wires under the chair. He then reached to remove the black hood from Bozer’s head, revealing Bozer’s pale and tear-stained face. 

_“Still can’t see any heat signatures nearby, but yours. Is Bozer okay?”_ Riley’s voice carried all the worry the entire team had been keeping in check since Bozer had gone missing and they’d found the latest cryptic note full of ridiculous riddle-filled clues.

Mac shook himself out of his stupor. His skin had gone cold and he now realised he hadn’t said anything or moved since they’d seen Bozer’s predicament. He forced himself into action. “I’m here, man. Just going to look under your chair, okay.” Mac gave Bozer’s shoulder a squeeze and slid down onto the floor.

Above him, and through his ear piece, Jack gave an approving hum as he updated the team. “He’s okay. A bit banged up, but he’s okay.” Several relieved sighs could be heard in response.

Mac lay on his back and carefully slid himself into a position to look under the simple metal frame. So far, this bomber had been less than clever with their bomb designs, but ridiculously annoying in the placement of them. Put a bomb somewhere practically unreachable or well-hidden and it was unlikely it could be defused. This case was sadly worse than the others. What he saw made his breath quicken and his mind switch into problem-solving mode. 

“I’m so happy to see you, you don’t even know.”

“We’re going to get you home. Just hang in there. Mac’s taking a look at the device. Did you see your kidnapper?”

“No, she had a mask.”

Mac could hear Jack and Bozer murmuring above him, but tuned them out in deference to the red numbers on the ridiculously large countdown timer that was staring him in the face. They had less than nine minutes. The bomb itself was frustratingly indecipherable. Not because it was necessarily all that intricate, but because it was completely hidden under a ball of wet brown clay.

The bomber has been targeting individuals, usually loved ones of the rich, political, famous or all of the above. The clues left in notes were vindictive riddles, but no one was certain why the victims had been chosen as targets. Other than their obvious position in life, none of them seemed to be connected. Phoenix got involved when they need an investigative team who could move swiftly and had bomb expertise. But it seemed the bomber hadn’t taken kindly to their interference.

“Hey Mac? What do you see?” Jack’s voice snapped Mac back into wider the room again.

“They covered it in clay.” His answer was direct, but absent-minded, as he started to formulate a plan.

“You can defuse it though, right? You can defuse anything.” Bozer’s voice was shaking, but he was clearly trying to hold it together and keep himself still like he’d been trained.

Mac slid himself away from the chair and stood up. He removed his own ear piece and carefully placed it in Bozer’s ear, then gave a quick squeeze to the back of his neck. “Of course. Sit tight, Matty and Riley will keep you company. I have an idea Boze, I just need a few things form the other room.”

Mac gestured for Jack to follow him into the corridor, talking as they walked quickly back toward the room they’d entered through. “We have less than 9 minutes, the bomb is covered in some sort of wet clay and if we try to remove it and accidentally pull out a wire…”

“Ka-Boom?” Jack guessed, miming a mushroom cloud shape with his hands, before setting the timer on his watch.

“Yeah, Ka-Boom,” Mac agreed. “Not good.”

“But?”

“But, so far the bomber has made the simplest bombs I’ve ever seen. Not a single safeguard.” Mac entered the storage room moving straight for the canister he’s catalogued on his way in. He shook it, breathing a relieved sigh when he heard liquid splashing around in the bottom.

“That’s good, right?”

“A bomb is essentially made of three parts, the trigger, the ignition system and the explosive. The British during the later stages of WWII used liquid nitrogen as a way to disarm German bombs. At very low temperatures, the battery can’t provide the voltage or current to trigger the detonator and set off the explosive, so they could safely disable and remove them. It’s the same reason why your cell phone battery will die in extremely cold weather.” Mac paused and pointed across the room. “Grab a bunch of those towels and… that pot plant.”

Jack didn’t blink, just moved quickly to empty both the plant and soil onto the floor and throw several towels inside the pot, before picking it up to follow Mac back toward Bozer and the bomb.

“So why don’t we use it more often?” Jack asked, as he turned to make sure Mac had everything he needed. Mac was already moving with the canister toward the door. “Mac?”

“They stopped using it because it’s really hard to carry cannisters of liquid nitrogen around. But more importantly, it’s cheap and easy to beat this method with a simple switch that will detonate the bomb when the temperature or battery voltage drops.” Mac wiped an unsteady hand across the sweat beading on his face. “We’re gambling that this bomber hasn’t upped their game. They’ve relied on bomb placement or other tricks to cause us issues so far and this bomb seems consistent with the pattern, but if I’m wrong . . .”

Bozer lifted his head defiantly and locked eyes with his best friend as they re-entered the room. His voice shook. “You’re never wrong Mac. I trust you. You can do this.”

Mac felt his stomach twist in the face of that trust. He hoped, as always, it wasn’t misplaced. This was his best friend relying on him. Mac took a deep breath, steeled himself and met Bozer’s brown eyes with what he hoped was a reassuring look.

“Jack, I need you to hold the pot underneath the bomb. Use the towels like over mitts to protect your hands. The pot is going to get really cold. Bozer, you’re going to have to keep as still as you can.”

“That’s not going to be a problem,” Bozer quipped, indicating the ropes still wrapped tightly enough to prevent any escape.

Jack went down to his knees, wrapping his hands with the towels as he did. It made for awkward angle, but Mac watched as he managed to get the pot under the chair and hold it up high enough that the bomb was almost entirely encased in it. Again, no questions just complete faith, even as Mac asked him to get up and personal with yet another bomb. Mac’s breath hitched like it always did in these moments. Jack’s trust never ceased to amaze him, either. He couldn’t help but think that if this didn’t work, he was glad he wouldn’t be around to know about it.

As Jack held the pot in position, Mac opened the liquid nitrogen canister and quickly poured the contents over the clay-covered bomb and it flowed down into the pot, where the bomb was immersed to about half way. Mac and Jack both looked away, wincing, not that it’d do any good should the bomb go off, but human reaction was like that. Nothing happened. Mac began to relax, then flinched again as Jack’s watch beeped. The sound was ridiculously loud in the tensely quiet room.

“Nine minutes and counting,” Jack confirmed. The beep meant the timer Jack had set on autopilot for the countdown, had finished. “I guess it worked!” The big man gave a loud whoop of joy, but never wavered in holding the pot steady.

Bozer gave a shaky laugh. “I knew you could do it, Mac.”

“Alright then, now for the hard part,” Mac said.

“The hard part?” Bozer and Jack asked in unison.

“The liquid nitrogen is evaporating quickly. I am going to cut you loose and pull you free. If we don’t blow up immediately, Jack is gonna throw the bomb out the window.” Mac stood and peered outside and found a dumpster bin a few meters away. “Aim for the dumpster if you can, it’ll help contain the blast if the bomb is still active when it warms up.

Everyone in the room nodded seriously. Mac could see Jack’s arms shaking a little with the effort of still holding the heavy pot in place, but he moved his cramped legs around into a position that meant he was ready to move.

“Okay, here we go.” Mac crouched to get level with the wiring and ropes, studying it before reaching underneath the chair and as quickly as possible, sawing through them with his swiss army knife where they all met above the bomb. As the bomb fell into the pot with a small splash, he dragged Bozer off the chair toward the examination table, pulling the flimsy mattress off as he went in an attempt at cover. Mac heard Jack grunt as the bomb and pot plant went sailing out the now smashed window and Jack somehow landed in a heap under the mattress too.

Still, nothing happened. Another minute passed. No explosion.

“How long do we wait?” Jack whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Mac asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack whispered, but Mac could see his mouth was turned up in a grin and his eyes looked a little wild, most likely from the buzz of adrenaline Mac was also feeling right now.

Then Bozer started to laugh, shaking uncontrollably with it as tears streamed down his face, most likely a mix of pain, adrenaline, relief and sheer surprised joy at finding he was still alive. They stayed there for a few moments, Bozer’s laughter catching until all three men were snorting and whooping as quietly as possible in an empty medical clinic exam room that hadn’t blown up. They even fist-bumped awkwardly on the floor, then finally flopped onto their backs mostly quiet again, if still shaken by the odd giggle.

_“…Play time is over, you need to get moving boys!”_ Mac heard the familiar exasperated sound faintly coming from Jack’s ear piece.

“Yes ma’am,” Jack eventually replied. 

The big man shoved the mattress off them and they tried to untangle themselves. Mac and Jack dragged Bozer up to stand and they each wedged a shoulder under one of Bozer’s arms when it was clear his legs were unable to hold him after being tied in one position for so long.

Jack using his free hand to bring Bozer’s forehead up to his own. “Don’t get kidnapped again all right. We were all worried sick.”

Bozer nodded in tired agreement. “Deal, man.”

“Let’s get you home and checked out by medical.” Mac squeezed his best friend to him, more relieved than he could express in words, but that was okay. He was certain, from the tired smile Boze gave him, that he already knew what Mac was thinking.

They hobbled at an awkward speed to exfill, laughing, crying and making jokes that honestly weren’t that funny. The bomber didn’t know what she’d got herself into by attacking this team, by attacking Mac’s friend. It was a job before. Now it was personal.

…fin…


End file.
